


Snapweed

by Elefwin



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elefwin/pseuds/Elefwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>one Death Planet, one lifeboat... of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapweed

Kylo Ren does not like to be touched. Not that Hux had ever wanted to touch Kylo Ren. Wanted to beat him, yes, for his hysterics, his disregard of discipline, his inexcusable willfulness do cost the Order dearly... There's but one restraining consideration: Ren is stronger, and the consequences of manhandling him would only exacerbate matters.

Kylo Ren can turn you inside out just like that – preferably hands-off.

Kylo Ren is lying sprawled on the brink of a fresh precipice and completely disregards the emergency evacuation order. General Hux calls for medics and then peels his gloves off with his teeth, because his hands have gone a bit unsteady. He very much does not want to touch... that. Ren reeks of blood and burnt flesh, cut all over! Hux, teeth bared, pushes his fingers under the sticky hair, under the collar and the narrow jaw, squeezes the cold neck and finally finds a pulse. He feels sick with relief – and with a sudden keen, almost not his own desire to squeeze harder... However, even if Kylo Ren does not need Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader Snoke does. He needs them both. Hux jerks his hand back. He would spit, but his mouth is dry.

Kylo Ren opens his eyes.

_But you wished... to stay, General._

A fresh wave of nausea rolls over Hux – who would have known hatred could do that! – and just as suddenly is gone, all gone.

"Cut it out," Hux, after all, manages some spit. "We've got orders."

Ren's pupils are blown, his lips crack when he smiles.

_Then... hurry..._

His black gaze is swimming, crimson sky is swiming, even the ground lurches under them, but the rescue shuttle makes it in time. Safely aboard, Hux drapes his coat over the broken body – tall, lean, living on sheer cussedness – and painfully clenches his fists, trying to get rid of the phantom feeling of the other's hand in his own.


End file.
